


Don't Shoot the Sacred Symbol

by StripySock



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Space, M/M, Military Backstory, Riding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-11
Updated: 2014-11-11
Packaged: 2018-02-25 00:07:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2601368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StripySock/pseuds/StripySock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jared joined Jensen’s contractor outfit after quitting the military and gets substantially more than he bargained for (in space).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Shoot the Sacred Symbol

**Author's Note:**

> Written for smpc.

"Jesus fucking Christ, are you a fucking amateur. How is this even possible?" Jensen in a rage was if possible, even more attractive than a calm Jensen and that messed with Jared's equilibrium almost as badly as the clusterfuck of ten minutes ago had. "What was that there?"

"It was what it looked like," Jared replied shortly, back turned while he fumbled in his pack for his water canteen. "I fucked up okay? I fucked up and I fixed it." Even as he said it, he knew it was a mistake. You didn't tell your boss that he was over exaggerating the situation when you were the one who'd dropped the ball.

Jensen's hand was on his shoulder then, swinging him around and even though he'd screwed up, Jared wasn't taking that, not out here where every moment was a show of strength and letting the rest of the squad see him get bossed around was completely out of the question especially when he was the new guy who was supposed to be handing down discipline. "You'd better be prepared to start something you won't be able to finish."

The next moment he was facedown on the floor, eating dirt and the rest of his team was sniggering, not so much at him but because they're pricks who found this sort of thing hilarious in general. If it was anyone else he'd probably be laughing as well, but inside he was raging, with a hot pit of anger in his belly, and a mouthful of earth gritty against his tongue, and he had to laugh with the rest or look like a sore fucking loser. Jensen didn't give him a hand up, made him scramble and the rage was all the stronger because he felt like an idiot.

Jensen was giving him an inscrutable sort of look, hot anger fading from his face. "Padalecki," he said, calm and quiet and meaner than a damn snake. "Get your folk in line and sort yourself out." Then he turned on his heel and strode off, and who was being the stupid bastard now, taking point without backup? Out of the corner of his eyes he saw two of the team melt after him presumably at some gesture and shook his head with frustration.

"Have to move faster than that," Gen said cheerily. "You let him get the drop like you've never done this before." She was his second out in the field and right now he wanted nothing more than to let the shit roll down hill by giving her the side of his tongue. Common sense kicked in though. He was the new kid on the block and alienating an amiable second was the way to a bullet in the back. He grunted and she gave him a friendly tap and a canteen of water. "Breathe, Padalecki," she advised, "he's the boss, he's supposed to be a hard ass."

"More like a straight up ass," he said but the water and the sense of what she was saying contributed to him feeling even stupider than he had face down on the ground.

Gen peered at him and took back her canteen. "Jared," she said and it's the first time anyone's called him that out here even though first names were the norm for everyone else. It felt weird to hear his name again. "You fucked up." She didn't say it unkindly and it was nothing he didn't know already, but it still stung a little. "But it's not the end of the world. You know what I did my first time on this trip? I pissed off an Anturian mudworm. Almost got myself eaten and my new best friend sold as a replacement village-worm. Jensen almost ate me alive after that one which wouldn't have been a much kinder fate than the worm. On that kind of a scale you're not doing badly." She stepped back and hefted her pack back on because of course they weren't done marching.

Jared appreciated the reassurance but the more he thought about it, the angrier he was at himself. He had a job to do and Jensen had hired him because he'd thought he could do it. He caught himself grazing the inside of his wrist with his thumb, over the misshapen scar that marked the end of what he'd thought his life would be and jerked his hand back, swung up his pack as well, and looked round at the ten people who'd been busy pretending not to listen to him and Gen.

"Right," he said. "Back on your feet. We'll pitch camp at the agreed rendezvous. And don't let me shoot at any more sacred symbols." There was a short general laugh and the tension broke as they set off.

So far, Jared thought, this job was proving a bust. Signing up as a hired gun had sounded more exciting in theory than it turned out to be in reality, since most of Jensen's jobs consisted of shepherding colonists around prospective planets, clearing out trouble from bandit-types or on occasion, preliminary scouting. Jensen of all trades and master of none, Jensen described himself at that first meeting and Jared remembered him being a lot more charming when he was trying to hire someone for the dirty job of replacing a second in command who'd been killed on duty, than he was when giving Jared shit in the field. Still the real fuck up hadn't been shooting that damn symbol, it'd been forgetting where he was and who he was with. Not being in the military didn't mean there was no structure to this business at all and he'd forgotten that, allowed the free and easy atmosphere to contaminate the command-chain. Still, musing over past mistakes was buttering no bread out here, and he loped forward to take point again, on the look out for anything unusual, feeling a little bit of drizzle beginning to hit the back of his neck.

Four hours later and Jared wanted off this wet, miserable, stinking planet and the way it pissed down rain at the slightest provocation. And of course the place with the best vantage point was the messiest, sloppiest mudhole they could have chosen to make camp. His feet were soaked through and he had never wished more fervently for the military-grade boots he was used to. At least the tents were decent technology - ultra lightweight, warm and dry and sheltered, foldable into a package so small it could barely be imagined, and best of all, not his responsibility to set up. No, his responsibility was to report to and possibly apologise to Jensen. Who naturally, had his own tent set up first, the perks of command being what they were.

Jensen was perched on his sleeping bag when Jared came in and gave him half a glance. "Wait a moment," he said and finished making a careful notation on his handheld before locking it with a thumbprint and putting it to one side.

"I apologise," Jared said - stiffly - because apologising had been the last thing on his mind when Jensen had been rubbing his face in the dirt.

Jensen rubbed a hand over his own face. "Forget it," he said. "I apologise as well. Chewing you out like that in front of everyone wasn't right and I knew that even when I did it."

Apropos of nothing, Jared remembered exactly why he had a job at all, and why Jensen might be touchy over his seconds putting themselves in danger over small potatoes. "Accepted," he said briefly because that would be the fastest way of ending this awkward as fuck conversation.

Jensen seemed to have no intention of finishing on that note though - he gestured vaguely in front of him. "Pull up a chair," he said. "And take off your boots or you're going to regret it tomorrow. The rain here has certain properties that don't mix well with body heat." Jared obeyed and tugged off his boots, lining them neatly up with Jensen's at the entrance.

"It's like the rain on Lascon V," he commented. "Smells like warm blood and feels like it as well."

"You were there?" Jensen said and possibly anybody who wasn't Jared wouldn't have seen the minute flick of his eyes to Jared's wrist. Jared had been living with that regret too long to ignore it though.

"Yeah," he said and dared Jensen to make a thing of it. "I told you before I signed on that I was ex-military. Emphasis on the ex," and to make the point clear he held out the wrist with the scarred out remnants of his number. There were surgeries that regrew skin effortlessly, painlessly, he could have had it removed seamlessly even if the nanobots in the ink under his skin were never coming out. But the scarring was important. It reminded him of what had been done - and that it'd been messy.

Jensen gave a mild snort and pushed up his own sleeve, displayed the neatly inked out rectangle on his skin. "It's why I hired you," he pointed out. "I was just surprised you were on Lascon. Timing didn't seem right."

Jared doesn't like to think how it took him a year to get out, deflects the implied question with one of his own. "You were there?" It's a stupid question really, Jensen's about four years older than him and he's clearly been out some time.

"No," Jensen replied steadily. "Wasn't like it was the first though," and Jared couldn't read anything in his face, anything that told him if Jensen felt the same way as he did about the fuck-up that had been or if he'd got out for reasons of his own.

"Fair," Jared said, and pulled his sleeve back down though he wasn't cold. There was something about having Jensen's eyes on his skin that wasn't exactly distasteful.

Dismissing the subject, Jensen moved on. "That's part of what I wanted to talk to you about though. I'm aware this was a rush-job and I regret not having the chance to discuss this before. You handled yourself well on the first two jobs though and it slipped my mind. You know already that I'm diversifying out the business?" He continued after a nod from Jared. "Gen's earmarked for heading up the second division and there's no-one in the squad who can take her place which is why I hired out. You've seen already that we're not military even if a substantial portion of our force is ex-military, we don't do ranks or the bullshit that they love so much they'll sacrifice lives for it. So I know it gets hard to draw the line sometimes. I'm not looking for a mouthpiece, Jared or someone to nod 'yes sir, no sir'. I hired you because I could guess what you've done and where you've been and I need someone like you. Today was petty on both our parts and I want this to be a good working relationship."

Jared nodded. It's the sort of straight talking that no officer would hand out ever and he appreciated it. "So do I," he said, an honest reply to match Jensen's candour. "I feel like I could fit in here."

There was a grin from the other man and then Jensen fished in his jacket. "That sorted," he said, "I propose a toast," and he pulled out a flask.

"Are you trying to get me drunk sir?" Jared mocked. He got Jensen now a little more he thought. Boots off was time off, and it looked like as well as a second, Jensen might need a friend.

Jensen looked up. "Like I'd need to Padalecki," he said with another smile that disarmed Jared more fully than any smile from a hired merc probably should. "You'd do this sober," and he made a lavish sweeping gesture towards himself and Jared doesn't think he's misreading the signals here.

"Bet you say that to all the cadets," Jared shot back, expected a crack in return about only the good looking ones.

"Only the ones who shoot innocent sacred images that have done them no harm."

Jared laughed, he couldn't help it; saw Jensen relax minutely as though he'd been waiting to gauge that particular reaction. "That's a pretty specific type."

"You'd be surprised," Jensen said. "If you know the right places to ask you can find some pretty specific things."

It was a really poor idea and Jared knew it before he said it, but he said it anyway. "Right place might be here." He could blame it on the fact that he got laid sometime well before this trip or that Jensen was hot and almost as fucked up as Jared, but it all came down to the fact that Jared wanted this a surprising amount, had done from the moment he'd stumbled across Jensen in a shitty bar and been given an impromptu job interview.

Jensen had gone very still, perched over on his sleeping bag like he was stunned into silence. "You know this isn't part of the job right? You don't have to do this." He said it like it was something he'd trained himself to say and it gave Jared a little pang in his chest at the thought, for no reason he could adequately explain.

"I'm well aware that this is not part of my duties," he said drily. "I might have signed on the dotted line a whole lot faster if it had been."

"You signed in about thirty seconds as it was," Jensen said. "I'm calling that easy."

"I'm calling it rent due myself," Jared retorted. "Easy works as well though. And before your bleeding heart brings it up, I'm not an idiot. Anything that happens in here stays in here. Boots off as it were," and Jensen seemed to get exactly what he meant.

"If I thought anything else," he said, "I wouldn't have suggested it. Nothing screws a team faster than screwing a team if you know what I mean. It'd make me a shitty captain."

It's Jared's turn for a little gentle mockery. "Captain huh? Do I have to start saying sir again?"

"Personally I was thinking you could start by saying nothing at all," Jensen said. "Possibly breaking up the silence a bit with my name. I'm not fussy."

Jared closed the distance between them then because one of them had to get this show on the road however insane an idea it was, pulled the flask that neither of them had had a chance to drink from out of Jensen's unresisting hands and chucked it to one side, and got in close enough to kiss Jensen. Jensen's mouth was lax against his for a second, almost shocked as though despite everything he hadn't expected it to come to this.  
  
Then he was kissing Jared back and it was shaking Jared down to his bones because he didn't realise how much he'd missed this - the warmth of someone else against him, the eager indrawn breaths against his mouth as they kissed, the sharp tug of Jensen's teeth against his lip that chased a shiver down his spine. As ridiculously juvenile as it might have seemed to a younger pre-war version of himself, to get someone like Jensen in bed and waste time on kissing, at this second in time he barely wanted anything more. Just Jensen fucking his mouth with his tongue, pulling Jared down on top of him so they could rut together through two sets of clothing, a muted pleasurable friction barely more intense than the smack of lip on lip, as amateurish as it was unbelievably hot.

Jared could've lost himself in just that - the weirdness of the half-sex they were performing in a tent with walls that were far too thin, on a sleeping bag that might have been the best money could buy but was not preventing a particularly sharp rock from nudging at Jared's leg - if Jensen hadn't decided to speed things up for them, shoved his hands down the front of Jared's pants, and got his hand around Jared's dick, firm and smart in this as apparently he was in most things, just touched him like that, like he liked the feel of it, wanted it close and Jared thrust forward into that grip as best as he could. Got his hands to his pants and pushed them down until they pinned his thighs and got his dick out, not caring how stupid he looked in that moment.

At least Jensen didn't seem to agree with that assessment, eyes darkened from enjoyment, aroused beyond belief as he stared at Jared's dick and wordlessly began to jerk him off. He didn't touch Jared like Jared touched himself, didn't know him in the same way but it didn't matter, his fingers firm and fast and tight, closing around him and pumping him fast like nothing else was needed, like all he wanted to do was get Jared off, get Jared to come all over him and that particular thought had Jared's hips thrusting in an abortive rhythm against Jensen's hand.

"What do you want?" Jensen asked, as though that wasn't a redundant question at that moment in time, but he was looking at Jared as though he actually wanted an answer.

Jared didn't know how to describe what he wanted. His attempts at dirty talking had inspired laughter in the past and now was not the best time to fix that so he went with the idea that honesty was the best possibility. Ground up against Jensen, got right up close and said what he wanted into his ear, so that only they'd know, only Jensen would hear. "I want to fuck you," he said, and Jensen sucked in a breath, quick and uncertain. "I want to fuck you and suck you off and do every single thing I've ever thought about with you. I want you to fuck me, and I want you right this second to pick one goddamn thing on that list because I have problems picking between them."

Jensen kissed him again then, like he was dying for it and Jared was his air before he replied. "Luckily making decisions is my forte. So get your damn clothes off."

Jared didn't need to be told things twice, got his clothes off in record breaking time, faster than bootcamp even and Jensen was about five seconds behind him, shedding everything, the dark of the bar on his skin more startling now, and Jared couldn't help it, had to touch it, run his fingers over the surface like he could spell out Jensen's past through it, the uneven mirror to his own. Jensen's breath hitched and Jared got back to the main event - sucking at the soft skin of Jensen's neck, just below where his clothes would cover it, a red patch of skin blooming under his mouth and he'd never felt that need before, to mark someone else and leave behind his presence, a reminder that he'd been there, that he'd touched them. Jensen was grinding against him though, breathing ragged and wet like he was getting off on it, on the way Jared pulled at his skin with his mouth until it was tender and bruised, the way he rubbed against his cock, and Jensen's hands were digging almost painfully into Jared's ass, tugging him down so they could rock together properly.

His fingers were dangerously close to where Jared wanted them to be if that was where the night was heading, and he shifted back a little, disengaged his mouth from the daisy-chain of bruises he’d left down Jensen’s chest. “Lube,” he said breathlessly. He knew for a fact that both of them were clear and vaccinated against damn near everything as a prerequisite for being considered spaceworthy - that sorted protection - but Jensen’s cock was big enough and thick enough that taking him with just a mouthful of spit would not be the smartest idea he’d had that day. Jensen, ever prepared by the same damn place that’d taught Jared the same damn things was about an arm’s length away from a travel kit and the small discreet bottle tucked inside it.

It wasn’t the military that’d taught him how to fuck Jared though - apparently that was something Jensen had guessed all by himself, because he drove Jared insane, got him propped up, knees spread on either side of Jensen, shallowly fucking his mouth while Jensen fucked him with his fingers. Just the sight of Jensen, mouth opened and spread around the width of Jared’s dick as he drove it in almost helplessly only just restraining himself enough  would’ve been enough for Jared, combined with the fact that Jensen was stroking his hole with a finger, like a tease before the main event was almost too much, one hand spreading him a little so the other could play with him and Jared almost lost it at that, at Jensen pressing two fingers against him, flirting with fucking him and then pulling back for a second before sliding in up to the knuckle, a twinge of sensation rocketing through Jared that he could barely describe - not pleasure, not yet, and certainly not pain, just a feeling like an itch as though he was waiting for the main event, the knot in his belly to unravel, and he’d even stopped fucking Jensen’s mouth, red and wet and a little battered looking now, wet gasps around Jared’s cock as Jensen got down to business, two fingers now, cool and slippery, prying him apart, gravity playing its part and forcing him down on them almost helplessly until he could feel Jensen’s knuckles against him, hard and distinct against tender flesh, and Jared could do this all day, precome spilling helplessly against Jensen’s mouth as Jensen slowly took him apart from the inside.

He thought he said something to that effect because Jensen sucked his dick at that moment, hard and fast, not letting Jared fuck his face, getting him wet and slick all over before he let him go almost reluctantly, pushed him back gently until Jared was straddling his hips instead, slicked up his dick and held it steady until Jared sank down on it, slowly as he could manage, inch by inch until he felt like he couldn’t take anymore, not ready enough or wet enough or anything enough for this - for the way Jensen was looking at him, thumb pressed now into the seared white mess of the scar on Jared’s wrist like he understood, like this was more than just a fuck with Jared’s off limits commander.

His body and gravity did the rest of the work though, dragged him down helplessly until they were sealed close and tight, and he could feel his ass working around Jensen’s cock, could barely bring himself to separate them for long enough to actually get to the fucking, Jensen’s hand on his wrist and his dick, twin touches, one of hyper bright sensation, the other dulled and indistinct through the scar tissue. He choked back a moan and moved, felt the long stretch of muscle in his thighs as he rode Jensen as best as he could, held back the noise as Jensen jerked him off like he did at first - rough fingers sliding over the wet from his own mouth, as he looked at Jared still, like he couldn’t fucking look away, like Jared was giving him something - he didn’t even know what.

Jensen came like that, screwing up into Jared, wide eyed and open mouthed, caught soundless in the moment before he let out this sigh and collapsed down into the bed, boneless and lax, and Jared on the brink of coming made a noise of protest. Jensen got his hand back round Jared and rammed his hips upwards again, the slowly softening thickness of his dick still holding Jared open. “You can fuck me if you can last,” he said open and honest, an offer that would mean more if Jared could delay coming any longer but as it was he groaned and leaned forward, didn’t know what he wanted more - the last stretch of Jensen’s cock in him or coming in Jensen’s mouth. In the end, Jared shuffled forward, and came between the two, so long and hard that it spattered up Jensen’s chest, splashed his chin. If wanting had been doing then Jared would have come a second time at the thought of that, of Jensen marked again for a second time.

As it was, he collapsed against him, sore and sweaty and unbelieving. “This is not where I saw this visit ending,” he said to Jensen’s collarbone before he rolled off.

“I didn’t either,” Jensen said. “I knew you were something special though from the moment I saw you in that bar.”

Jared closed his eyes, from old habit felt his fingers press into his wrist. “Not special,” he said softly and tried not to think about why.

Jensen closed his fingers around the same wrist as though by instinct. “Trust me on that,” he said. “I’m the captain aren’t I?”

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback always appreciated, concrit welcomed.


End file.
